Category Archives: Generation X

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The only horrible thing about this show is that it eventually got cancelled.

The Hilarious House of Frightenstein was a kid’s show started back in 1971, and done out of the rust belt town of Hamilton, Ontario. The rubber-faced Billy Van was the star and pretty much the whole cast, and a damn fine cast it was, too. Apparently special guest star Vincent Price shot all his work for the entire series in four days. The show also boasted production values that would have embarrassed Doctor Who; imagine trying to bring to life an acid trip using a wardrobe you peeled off a drunken Hamiltonian Goth, some old macrame planters, a fright wig, and some coloured light gels. And doing it for kids. While dressed as a vampire who is exiled to Canada until he can somehow gather the strength of character to actually frighten someone OR reanimate a corpse-monster, and so earn his way back into Transylvania.

First up, from 70’s tv fixture Soul Train (OMG there’s a Soul Train CRUISE!!!) via GOOD magazine. Hands up who learned these moves in Grade 7? And what ever happened to elephant baggies pants? Or satin pantsuits for the disco? And GET OFFA MY LAWN!

Next up, an entirely more Orthodox take on the smash hit, from Aish.com, released to celebrate Rosh Hashanah, and featuring some very hot breakdancing boys in need of more bobby pins.

Like this:

This post is an update to The Shape of Things To Come, on which we are making steady but (very) slow progress. Although not that “coming” part lately. MOVING ON!

Purple Reign

So this is what I’ve decided on in terms of hair colour. Given that my hair is coming in a nice streaky silver/steel at the roots, and I’ve been a blonde since I was born (with a two year hiatus for Strawberrycoaster) it seems like a refreshing change. And the colours now are not quite as permanent as they were. I already own eight hundred items of grey clothing, so what the hell. I figure if I get it done at the Aveda school, somebody with training is supervising them and I can probably almost afford it. Also, when it grows in, the silver roots will work well with the existing lilac, although I may want to streak some semipermanent colours up into the grey so it doesn’t have as sharp a demarcation line. Victoria Potter at Demicouturerecommended Aveda, and numerous friends recommended Manic Panic, so between the two of them I should be covered for the next, enpurpled phase of my life. This is the first time I’ve had enough grey to rock it as opposed to having it just dilute the natural blonde, so I might as well REALLY rock it, no?

UPDATE:

Edited to add that I think this colour goes very well with my new name from the Benedict Cumberbatch name generator: Boobytrap Covergirl. Yes, Boobytrap Covergirl. TOP THAT! Total Hippie Occupy Bond Girl name.

Or, probably, in the future as well. In all of recorded time and space, in fact. And just think, Nick Denton, if your place hadn’t become a cesspool of festering Deadspin lunkheads, you could have had this on your site.

In response to an AIDs denialist in the comments on the video of Spencer Cox from the previous post:

Oh, honey. Spencer’s toenails were better than you. They had a higher IQ, more credibility, and a better likelihood of being remembered with fondness. Spencer is now redecorating the halls of Valhalla while the best thing you can think to do with your completely unjust continued life is to troll YouTube, forsooth, in order to eke out tiny shreds of the attention you crave but can gain no other way. Because you have nothing to offer the world. You are wholly contemptible. Go pour salt on yourself.

This post was inspired by a rather heated (40 or so comments) discussion on Facebook about whether misogyny within the ranks is holding back the Occupy movement. Make no mistake: it is. If you chart the flamewars on FB alone, the male individuals against female individuals flamewars are running about double the rate of the male on male flamewars, and this is AFTER the most sensitive women left the group altogether. This came as a huge, and saddening, surprise to me; I was raised in the era of Equality, when fighting for the rights of women was as accepted as fighting for the rights of black people or the handicapped. Apparently, when we were resting on our laurels and telling ourselves we’d come a long way, baby, things slipped backwards.

But silence is a form of collusion, as this image from AnonCircle points out, and it’s time to speak out.

One of the most telling signs of the backsliding: despite that thread being prominently featured in my friends’ news feeds and in various Occupy Vancouver Facebook groups and pages, I was the only woman who commented on it publicly. In a depressing version of “the lurkers are with me” I received many private messages of hearty support from women.

I, naturally, challenged them.

“If you think that, why do you not post it? Why are you telling ME that women deserve equal respect? I already know this.”

“Because I wanted you to know I support you.”

“Then support me. Take my left flank. POST.”

Result: one comment. One is an infinite times greater than zero, so I’m counting this as progress. Courage and support are not courage or support if they melt away like a vampire in daylight.